


You make me feel like dancing

by HopeSilverheart



Series: Loving Em at 2AM [35]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: (everyone else's jobs are unimportant), Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - Human, Andrew Underhill & Aline Penhallow Friendship, Boys In Love, Clary Fray & Alec Lightwood Friendship, Dancer Helen, Dancer Isabelle, Dancer Lorenzo, Dancer Magnus Bane, Dancer Maia, Dancer Simon, Dancing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Fluff, Found Family, Friendship, Girls in Love, Love, Lydia Branwell & Jace Wayland Friendship, M/M, Married Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 12:02:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24849454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeSilverheart/pseuds/HopeSilverheart
Summary: When Magnus and his dancers decide to organise an Open Dance Night at the Downworld Studio, they couldn't have known that their significant others would go behind their backs and learn how to dance in secret. However, that's exactly what happens.Or: The story of how six friends go out of their way to show the ones they love (and themselves) that anything is possible if you try hard enough, and learn more about their friendships and relationships along the way.
Relationships: Clary Fray/Isabelle Lightwood, Helen Blackthorn/Aline Penhallow, Lorenzo Rey/Andrew Underhill, Lydia Branwell/Maia Roberts, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Simon Lewis/Jace Wayland
Series: Loving Em at 2AM [35]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1764400
Comments: 17
Kudos: 104
Collections: Fluff vs. Angst Battle 2020





	1. The Plan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thatnerdemryn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatnerdemryn/gifts).



> I would like to start this off by saying that none of this is beta'ed or edited, and I profoundly apologise for any mistakes I might have made, especially in the last few chapters. Also, I didn't go through these chapters again whilst tagging, so if there's anything you think I should add, please tell me!

The first thing everyone learns about the Downworld Studio dancers is that they’re the best of the best. Not a single student turns out badly, not a single one gives up, and the teachers are twice as talented as everyone else.

Clary knows this, Clary has _seen_ this. Hell, she’s dating one of the studio’s founders who spends most of her time there, so she knows the place better than almost anyone else. She loves the building, loves the mirrored rooms in which she can sit down and paint the hundreds of students that file in and out every day. She loves admiring her girlfriend when she takes to the floor and lets herself go, her movements fluid and graceful.

Isabelle is one of the best dancers in North America at the moment, and Clary couldn’t be prouder. Her girlfriend speaks in steps and music, and Clary transforms them into her own language of colours and lines. It’s one of her favourite things to do.

Nothing, however, beats seeing the whole senior crew gathered all at once. The teachers rarely meet up since they’re all so busy with their different classes and personal projects and competitions but, when they do, it’s always magical. Even better, every staff member always brings their partner, which means Clary gets to spend time with her best friends and gossip about their significant others.

It’s on one of those nights, when Isabelle and the other professional dancers are sitting around a table discussing business and plans for the future, that Clary overhears one of their ideas and is flooded by a few thoughts of her own.

Isabelle and Magnus are talking about having a demonstration, an open night during which their students could show off their progress and the teachers could parade around like peacocks.

Because the second thing everyone learns about the Downworld Studio dancers it that they are very, _very_ full of themselves. The senior staff, in particular, is so confident that it borders on arrogance. Yes, Isabelle is an amazing dancer, but she could also use a reality check once in a while. No one is perfect, not even those who reign supreme over their chosen hobby or career.

“Is it me or are they just trying to find a reason to remind everyone of how good they are?”

Clary snorts at Andrew Underhill’s question. The blond man is the most recent addition to their little group. Lorenzo and he only started dating recently, and their relationship is new enough that he doesn’t know the ins and outs of the dance studio quite yet. He’s also adorably smitten with Lorenzo and incapable of seeing the man’s flaws clearly.

“Do you really have to ask?” Alec answers, his eyes never leaving Magnus’ figure. “Between Magnus, Izzy, Lorenzo, and Maia, showing off is basically a prerequisite to becoming a teacher here. I love them dearly, but they’re all a bit too cocky when it comes to their dancing. They’re great, they know it, and they never pass up on an opportunity to be the brightest and best in the room.”

“Sometimes, I wonder how Simon was even hired.” Jace sounds both genuinely confused and more than a little fond.

Clary hums thoughtfully, looking at the mismatched group of teachers in front of her. They all have their specialties and their eccentricities but, in spite of all that, they somehow fit. They’re a strange group, and Clary knows people have underestimated them in the past because of their dynamic, but they’re in charge of the best studio in New York City, so they’re clearly a lot more competent than some assume they are.

Magnus is the star of the show, the one who came up with the idea, the building, as well as the starting money for the studio. He dominated the dance scene for years before deciding to take a step back and teach instead. He still competes, of course, but he also loves pushing his students into the spotlight and bringing them straight to the top. He promises them careers and he delivers, which is why everyone loves him so much.

Isabelle was his best friend long before they started the studio together. She’s the one who brought in extra staff, who handled the business side of things, and who found their very first students. She also happens to be Magnus’ dance partner, and they’re as demanding in the studio as they are good on stage. Alone, they’re beautiful, but together… Well, it’s something else entirely. They tango like they were meant to do it all their lives, and Clary admires that about them.

However, two people was soon too little for a studio as successful as theirs. So they hired more staff, people who had tons of potential, determination, and a desire to be seen. Enter Lorenzo Rey, one of Magnus’ former rivals turned friend and colleague. The man is a pain in the ass most of the time, but he knows what he’s doing. He’s talented and sharp, as well as ridiculously funny when he wants to be and, deep down, all he wants is for his students to do their best.

With Lorenzo came Helen, the partner he’d been dancing with ever since they went to school together. The blond woman is one of the sweetest teachers in the studio, always willing to lend an ear to their students when they’re struggling with something. She’s also ruthless on the dance floor, dancing with Lorenzo like they’re water, flowing fluidly and never faltering. She’s beautiful and deadly, and Clary has always admired her for it.

Simon and Maia were the senior staff’s last additions. They started as junior teachers who took care of the younger groups but were quickly promoted when Isabelle and Magnus realised just how talented the two of them were. They dance together with passion and fire in their every step and, if Clary didn’t know about their significant others, she would have sworn they were dating. Their moves are sensual and enticing, and Clary knows the control they have over their body is just as impressive as Isabelle’s perfect technique.

“I think Simon is exactly the kind of teacher they need,” Aline pipes in, interrupting Clary’s musings. The brunette is cuddled up next to Jace, poking her almost-cousin in the ribs in an effort to make him uncross his arms. “I mean, with so many big heads and egos in the room, they need someone like him to change their grandiose ideas into something a little more… controlled.”

Alec and Clary snicker in unison at Aline’s words, glancing at each other conspiratorially. They were both there when Isabelle and Magnus were figuring things out by themselves, and they know how things end when they don’t have a Helen or a Simon in the room to bring them back down to earth.

There have been festivals and parades and plenty of other whimsical events planned by those two that have ended in disaster, and Clary isn’t eager to see that happen again. So, Aline has a point. Simon is as necessary to the group as the others.

Besides, as his childhood best friend, Clary knows he’s more competitive and peacock-like than people assume. He loves a good show as much as his colleagues do; the only difference is that he hides it better. He comes up with ideas that appear to be selfless but are really just an excuse for him to dance with Maia in front of everyone and make people blush with his surprisingly sensual moves.

“How about an open dance night?”

Clary and the rest of the dancers’ other halves straighten up at Helen’s words. Open dance nights are notorious for spinning out of control or being interrupted by a rivalling dance company who wants to get on the organisers’ nerves. The last thing Clary wants is more drama in her girlfriend’s life, no matter how much Isabelle would undoubtedly love that.

Unfortunately, she has no say when it comes to what happens inside the studio. She has her own job to worry about, and she refuses to get involved in Isabelle’s business on top of that. That doesn’t mean she has to like everything that her girlfriend and colleagues put in place. Especially not when she knows what this means for her and her friends.

“This is bad,” Lydia murmurs, glancing up from her textbooks. The fact that she’s tearing herself away from her studies only adds weight to her statement. The blonde has an exam tomorrow, and she’s notorious for getting lost in her work, so this… “This is really, really bad.”

“Oh come on, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Jace rolls his eyes. “What’s the worst that could happen? We’ll probably get dragged into it and asked to make snacks or bring drinks, but it’s not like we’ll be forced to dance or anything.”

“Won’t we, though?” Alec mutters, staring pointedly at the dancers, who are all looking at them with varying degrees of consideration in their eyes. “Because I have a feeling Helen had something in mind when she mentioned an open night, and it wasn’t just a fun time between teachers and students. Hell, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t even an excuse to show off.”

“Although they’ll definitely be doing that,” Clary points out.

“Oh, definitely,” Aline snorts. “I mean, I love Helen, but Alec’s right. There’s no way her intentions were pure, especially not given the way they’re looking at us like we’re prey right now. My money is on some weird group dance between dancers and amateur significant others.”

“Too bad we’re not going to say yes to such a ridiculous offer,” Lydia snorts. “I’m not getting near that stage, not even if Maia pulls out her puppy eyes.”

It’s not completely true and they all know it. The one thing they all have in common besides their dancers is how much they love said partners. There’s very little Clary wouldn’t do for Isabelle, and she knows her friends feel the same about their significant others. However, she also agrees with Lydia on this one.

There’s no way she’s letting Isabelle drag her into some strange choreography in which she ends up looking like a fool. Dancing is one thing, but dancing next to a professional? Absolutely not.

Clary stays silent for a few minutes, trying to eavesdrop on the dancers’ conversation. As soon as Helen mentioned an open dance night, they started whispering, which only deepens the redhead’s suspicions. And since none of her friends are talking, she assumed they’re just as worried about the quiet as she is. Their partners are up to something, and Clary doesn’t think they’re going to like it.

By the time Magnus claps his hands delightedly and turns towards them with a wicked smile on his lips, Clary’s insides are burning with worry. She doesn’t want to dance in front of an audience with Isabelle. Yes, she loves her girlfriend, but she won’t do that to herself. Given how pale Alec is next to her, she knows he feels the same way. Latin-American dances are hardly a joke, and they’ve both seen their partners twirl around enough to know there’s no way they could replicate that.

No way in hell.

“Alexander!”

Clary’s best friend winces as he looks up at Magnus. They’re all leaning against one of the studio’s mirrors, legs splayed out comfortably, and Clary wonders what kind of picture they must make to their elegant partners. Alec doesn’t let that bother him, instead humming noncommittally at Magnus’ words.

“Helen has just had the most wonderful idea, and we’re going to need your help! And when I say _your_ I mean all of you, not just my beautiful husband.”

“We’re not going to dance with you, Lightwood-Bane,” Jace huffs. “If you think you can get us to twist and glide alongside you, you’re even more foolish than I thought you were.”

“I’m sorry to say this, but I agree with him,” Alec grimaces. “I love you, _cariño_ , I really do, but I’m not participating in that open dance night of yours. Do you remember what happened the last time we tried dancing together in public? Because I do, and I also remember the utter humiliation I felt when I stepped on your feet and tripped over thin air.”

“Excuse me,” Magnus gasps mock-offendedly. “Are you saying that you didn’t enjoy our wedding dance, Alexander? Because that is the most preposterous thing I have ever heard! The lies, the slander! You enjoyed every second of it and we both know it!”

“He looked like he was going to shit himself the entire time,” Maia calls out from behind Magnus, winking at Alec when the tall man sends a disgruntled glare her way.

“Besides, none of us can dance,” Andrew adds, looking nervous and conflicted. Clary’s heart warms at his words.

She knows their newest friend is still uncomfortable around them, still unsure about his place in their little group, but she’s glad he’s finally settling in. More than that, she’s glad he’s sticking by them even though he’s probably dying to please Lorenzo by agreeing to dance with him.

“Well, that’s the whole point!” Isabelle exclaims, sidling up next to Magnus and looking down at them with a grin. Clary rolls her eyes at her girlfriend’s enthusiasm, knowing it’s all a ploy to fatten them up before sending them to the slaughterhouse. “We get to teach you a few moves, you get to train with the most amazing dancers in the world, and then we all have fun at our open night! Our students will love it, and so will the parents. Come on, it’ll be great!”

Clary glances at her friends one by one. Alec is still wincing, probably thinking about his wedding night and how anxious he was when his first dance came around. Aline looks unsettled, and Clary is suddenly hit with a vague memory of Aline’s parents trying to force her into dance lesson as a child. Jace looks disgusted, Lydia looks unimpressed, and Andrew seems to alternate between terrified and determined to stand by his earlier words.

One thing is clear: none of them want to participate in this farce of an open night.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Clary shrugs. “We love you guys, but you’re the dancers. We’d only look like idiots next to you, and we would probably ruin the show for everyone else. You’re going to be perfect without us, so why mess with that? I promise you we’ll be fine on the side-lines, cheering you on and getting money out of those hopeless parents.”

“I think our dear lovers are afraid,” Lorenzo smirks. To Clary’s right, Andrew gulps audibly. “They’re too cowardly to handle a waltz, let alone our favourite dances. Maybe they’re right; maybe the risk isn’t worth it.”

Clary grits her teeth at the man’s underhanded attempts to make them cave. A few years ago, she would have believed his words and gotten righteously incensed, but she can now see his taunts for what they are: desperation. Lorenzo has a way of getting underneath people’s skins, and the teachers are probably counting on it to make their partners give in.

“Maybe it isn’t,” Alec shrugs, having obviously seen through Lorenzo’s game as easily as Clary did. “Now, how about you go back to planning your night and coming up with something that doesn’t involve us? You might have to move things around, but I’m sure you’ll manage. Besides, isn’t the whole point of an open night _volunteering_ to dance? Forcing people onto the stage feels counterproductive so really, we’re doing you a favour.”

Magnus opens his mouth to say something to his husband, but Alec raises a hand to stop him in his tracks.

“You can’t blackmail me this time, Magnus,” he shakes his head exasperatedly. “I love the studio and I think you’re an incredibly dancer, but I’m not going to play along to your little game.”

Clary expects their partners to continue arguing with them for a while, but something must show on their faces, because Isabelle, Magnus and Lorenzo only sigh heavily before re-joining the rest of their colleagues. As soon as they take their seats, they’re back to planning their evening, and Clary relaxes against the mirror, glad to have avoided _that_ disaster.

“You know, Lorenzo has a point,” Andrew interrupts their silence. “I mean, you might think I’m biased, but I know my boyfriend better than you guys. I know he was trying to gaud us into going along with their plan, but I’m pretty sure there’s more to it than that. Maybe, just _maybe_ , our partners want us to dance because it’s something they love, and we’re people they love.”

“Very cute sentiment,” Lydia chuckles. “But I find that highly unlikely. If they wanted us to dance with them, they could have asked us to practice with them in private instead of planning an entire event.”

“Or maybe they were using this event as an excuse because they know none of us will say yes otherwise,” Aline murmurs. “I hate to say this, but I think Andrew might have a point. They’ve never tried pressuring us into dancing with them before, so maybe… Maybe they just want us to understand why they love their passion and work so much. Would dancing for the open night really be that bad?”

“I mean…” Clary sighs, closing her eyes as she tries to imagine what might happen if they end up going on stage. “It might be, but… It might not. However, this doesn’t change my mind. Whether their intentions are pure or not, I’m not dancing with Isabelle in front of all those people.”

“Right,” Alec nods slowly. “I agree with Clary. But I also agree with you guys. Lorenzo got one thing wrong; we’re not cowards, and we’re not afraid. Or maybe we are a little bit, but not enough to back down from a challenge. They want us to dance with them because they don’t think we’re good enough to manage it by ourselves, but we don’t want to dance with them because the embarrassment would be too big. You know, it kind of sounds like there’s an easy solution to our problem here. A way to make our partners happy whilst not making _complete_ fools of ourselves.”

“Oh no,” Clary shakes her head at her best friend, pressing her lips together tightly when Alec’s face lights up with a wide grin.

She knows exactly what conclusion he’s come to, and she doesn’t know if it’s worse or better than what their partners suggested. Their friends have clearly caught up to Alec too, because they’re all looking at him with something between wonder and doubt.

“You want us to dance without them,” Jace mutters. “My question is, how does that solve anything? We’ll only look stupider if we do that.”

“Will we?” Lydia asks, tapping her fingers against her textbook rhythmically. “Think about it, blondie. The main reason why dancing with our partners is a terrible idea is because they’re great at what they do and we’re really not. They could teach us better than we can teach ourselves, yes, but they would still be ten times better than us by the end of it. If we practice behind their backs and prepare something without them, though, we won’t be able to humiliate ourselves. Sure, we’ll probably suck, but at least we’ll suck together.”

“Besides, if they don’t know about this, we can always back out at the last minute,” Aline points out, clearly on Alec and Lydia’s side. Clary sighs heavily, knowing she’s already lost this battle.

Jace has obviously come to the same conclusion as her, because he shoots her an exasperated look before shrugging at Alec.

“Great!” Alec beams. “Andrew and Clary, are you guys in?”

Andrew nods enthusiastically, obviously glad that his friends listened to his opinion and idea. It’s what makes Clary cave in the end; Andrew is clearly trying to do right by both his boyfriend and his friends, and that’s something she can appreciate in a person.

And her friends have a point; Isabelle will be delighted to see Clary dance, even if it’s not with her. She’ll probably congratulate her even if she makes hundreds of mistakes and help her get better for the ‘next time’. She might be mad that Clary didn’t tell her about their plan, but she’ll be happier more than anything, and if there’s one thing Clary loves in life, it’s making Isabelle smile.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” she murmurs. “How are we even going to do this? It’s not like we can ask any of the teachers her, since they’ll only report to those six and then our surprise will be ruined.”

“Undoubtedly,” Aline snorts. “I swear everyone here worships these guys. But really, there’s an easy way to do this. We’ve all watched our partners dance extensively. I mean, how many nights have we all spent admiring them and commenting on their technique behind their backs? We may not be dancers, but we’ve been to enough lessons to know the basics, at the very least. Or are you telling me that you haven’t memorised all those stupid exercises yet?”

She has a point, actually. Clary knows more about dance than most people do; more than some dancers do, honestly. She spends so much time in the studio, staring at Isabelle and trying to get her movements onto paper, that she knows the positions to her dances almost by heart. And now that she’s thinking about it…

“Andrew!” She whisper-shouts, turning towards the man suddenly. “You’ve only been here for a few months, but I know you’ve visited all of our significant others during their classes. Any chance that you…”

“That I filmed them?” Andrew asked her, a smug smirk twitching at his lips as he understands where Clary is going with this. “Of course I did. I’m a photography student, but sometimes stills don’t do the dancers justice, so I have to take it a step further.”

“Which means you have videos of all of them,” Jace finishes for them. “Thank god, because I don’t think I can recreate a single one of Simon’s move without a reference. Speaking of, are we going for a group dance, or should we do the obvious and partner up?”

“So eager to dance with me, are you?” Lydia teases the blond man, leaning over Aline to pinch Jace’s cheeks. “I knew you loved me, blondie! You have the greatest ideas, really!”

“I never said that _we_ should partner up!”

“But it would make the most sense,” Alec says, nodding at Lydia understandingly. “I mean, who do we know better than our significant others? No one. I know how Magnus dances, but I don’t know how Simon does, and the same goes for you the other way around. Besides, I feel like Lydia and you will be a good fit. You’re both very…”

“Stiff?” Aline suggests, jumping away from Jace when he tries to slap her playfully. “I’m kidding, cousin! Chill out! And don’t get too pissy about Lydia, because I’m going to have to deal with our darling Andrew here and, no offence, but you don’t seem like the dancer type.”

“Thankfully for me, I’ll have a decent partner, right?” Andrew smiles shyly. Clary doesn’t think he’s really had the time to get to know Aline yet, but she hopes it means he’ll feel even more at ease around them by the end of this little plan of theirs.

“Aline is probably the best dancer here, yeah,” Clary agrees easily. It’s not like _she_ can dance, let alone someone like Alec or Lydia. “Which leaves Alec and I to fend for ourselves with Isabelle and Magnus’ hellish dances.”

“Choose the most intense partners, get the most intense dance,” Lydia shrugs. “Seems fair to me. If you wanted simplicity in your life, you should have gone for Simon or Maia like Jace and I did.”

“If you think their dancing is easy, you’ve got something else coming for you,” Aline snorts. “But I’ll let you figure that out by yourself, _blondies_.”

Before they can say anything, their partners stand up and start giving each other their usual goodbye hugs. That’s their cue to do the same thing and acting out of the norm will only make their significant others suspicious, so they all immediately jump to their feet and go through their routine.

When Clary embraces Alec, she leans in even closer to him, standing on her tiptoes to reach his ear.

“I hope you’re ready for my moves, Lightwood-Bane,” she whispers, grinning maniacally. “This is going to be one hell of a ride.”

“Yes it is,” her best friend sighs, pulling away from her and looking in Isabelle and Magnus’ direction. The two dancers are gesturing wildly as they speak, as bright and extravagant as ever.

Clary wonders if Alec and her will manage to capture even a fraction of what those two communicate when they’re together.

Well, they’ll never know if they don’t try. She just hopes they’ll still be friends by the end of it.


	2. Andrew & Aline

Andrew fiddles with his camera nervously as he waits for Aline to join him in front of the studio. They managed to set a date and place for their practices, eventually deciding to rehearse right under their partners’ noses. Andrew had almost bailed on Aline at the last moment, but an encouraging text from Alec stopped him before he could do anything stupid.

He’s the reason why they came up with this insane plan, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t see it through to the end, no matter how crazy and terrifying it’s going to be. They haven’t even started dancing yet, haven’t even stepped into the studio, but he’s already on edge.

Andrew isn’t a dancer. The only art he has any control over is his photography and – occasionally – his short films. He doesn’t do music, and he certainly doesn’t do _rhythm_. He can’t move his body like Lorenzo does, and his boyfriend will probably be appalled by Andrew’s complete lack of coordination.

This is a terrible idea.

“Andrew!”

He spins around, coming face to face with Aline. The brunette looks as happy as always, her face lit up with a bright smile and her eyes full of a confidence that Andrew envies her. Out of all the friends he’s made thanks to Lorenzo, Aline is the one he knows the least. She’s an unknown, in a way.

Everyone tells him that she’s amazing and kind and ultimately very sweet underneath all her exuberance and self-confidence, but it’s still hard for him to see that side of her. Alec assured him that she would open up to him eventually and he would see there was nothing to be afraid of, but for now…

Well, for now he isn’t sure he’s going to make it out of their rehearsals without making a complete fool of himself, both socially and dancing-wise. However, Aline looks genuinely happy to see him, so he forces a small smile onto his face.

“You look like you’re walking to your death, Andrew,” the woman snorts. “I know this isn’t going to be all fun and games, but it’s not like we’re going to do anything serious. You’re going to be fine, and I’m going to make sure we’re the best duo on that stage next month. Really, how hard can Salsa be?”

Andrew doesn’t answer, because they both know _exactly_ how complicated Salsa is. Helen and Lorenzo have been training for years, and even they struggle with some of the moves. There’s no way Aline and Andrew will be able to replicate one of their choreographies, which is why he spent the entire night looking for their simpler dances and trying to spot which moves they could use and which ones they should discard.

“Okay, so maybe it’ll take some work, but I’m sure we’ll get it eventually!” Aline grins, obviously a lot more optimistic about this whole affair than Andrew is. “Today’s lesson is all about espionage, so you don’t have to worry about dancing quiet yet. I know we have your wonderful footage of Lorenzo and Helen, but I think seeing them dance in person might be even more useful. You know what our goal is, right?”

“Well, find the easiest moves, probably,” Andrew shrugs. “There are certain sequences that they repeat all the time and that we know quite well already, so we shouldn’t pay too much attention to those. I suppose we also need to take a look at the way they hold themselves. There’s a lot of… tension, but also not. I don’t know how to describe it, but you know what I’m talking about, right?”

“Yeah, I do,” Aline nods, leading the way into the building and straight towards the room where Lorenzo and Helen like to practise. It’s one of the smaller rooms and Andrew doesn’t understand why they chose it in the first place, but the love it. “Remember, they can’t suspect anything is going on, so just relax and act like you always do. They have no reason to believe we’re here to do anything than observe, so there’s no need to be stressed out about it. It’s not like we’re lying to them.”

“Right,” Andrew nods, repeating Aline’s words in his head a few times until he – somewhat – believes them. “Just another day at the studio for us, nothing special.”

Aline raises a worried eyebrow at him, obviously picking up on some of his anxiety, and Andrew does his best to shove it back into the back of his heart. He doesn’t need to deal with this right now; they’re not doing anything wrong or dangerous or even hard. They’re just here to look at their significant others, which is actually something Andrew loves doing.

In fact, as soon as they step into the room, he can feel some of the tension leaving his shoulders. Maybe this is why Helen and Lorenzo love this place; there’s something about it that makes Andrew feel less pressures, less worried about everything that’s going on in his life. Although that might have something to do with Lorenzo, who lit up instantly when he spotted Andrew. There’s nothing nicer than knowing that you’re wanted, knowing that you’re _loved_ , and Lorenzo gives Andrew all of that and more.

“Well, well, if it isn’t our favourite audience members!” Lorenzo exclaims, pressing a soft kiss to Andrew’s lips before hugging Aline briefly. Helen embraces Andrew shortly, and he’s once again hit with warmth and love for this little family who accepted him with open arms. “What are you two doing here?”

“Oh, you know,” Aline smiles. “Just here to watch our lovers dazzle us once again. We feel bad about rejecting your open night idea, so we thought the least we could do was come here and admire you for a while. I’ll even listen to your ridiculous prattling about technique without complaining.”

“You don’t need to bribe me into forgiving you, angel mine,” Helen rolls her eyes. “I understand why you don’t want to dance with us. However, I appreciate the thought. As long as you two don’t bother us with questions or talking, you know you’re always welcome here.”

With that, Helen dragged Lorenzo back to the centre of the room and restarted the music, obviously eager to get back to their choreography. Aline winks at Andrew before skipping over to the bench they had set up specifically for times like these.

They don’t speak at all during the two hours of intense practice Helen and Lorenzo go through. Instead, they both look at their partners intently, trying to spot the familiar movements they feel confident executing and eliminating those that are much too hard for Andrew to even think about.

Most of all, though, Andrew stares at Lorenzo and wonders, not for the first time, how he does this. How did Lorenzo ever become good enough for this? How long did he have to train to achieve perfection like this? And how long will it take Andrew to manage even the simplest steps of this beautiful dance Helen and he are executing so flawlessly?

There’s rhythm in their dance, obviously, but there’s something else too. There’s an ease that comes form familiarity and caring and confidence, things Andrew isn’t sure he’ll ever really _get_ , especially not with Aline. There’s just something so intimate about salsa dancing, about the way their hips roll and their legs fly around without ever bumping into their partners’.

Lorenzo dips Helen like she weighs nothing and lifts her up like she was always meant to soar so high. They flow together seamlessly, and Andrew can hardly tell where one of them starts and the other ends. Every time Lorenzo moves, Helen is right there with him. More than once, Andrew feels himself lean forward in his seat in an attempt to understand how they do it.

Aline is just as entranced as him, her hands clenching and unclenching in what Andrew recognises as her way of focusing on something. Her eyes never leave Helen, even though she’s probably seen her wife dance thousands of time in the past. Andrew wonders if he’ll always be like that with Lorenzo, too. Maybe it’s a bit early to be thinking about such a distant future, but he honestly thinks he could watch his boyfriend dance forever if Lorenzo didn’t mind.

By the time their rehearsal comes to an end, Lorenzo and Helen are both sweating but grinning widely. There’s an easy chemistry between them, and Andrew immediately knows that Aline and he won’t get anywhere if they don’t have something even remotely similar to that between them. They can work on technique as much as they want to, but they’ll never succeed if they have to fake the attraction between them.

Lorenzo and Helen aren’t romantically – or even sexually – interested in each other, but there’s something there…

“How do we replicate _that_?” Aline asks him under her breath. “It’s there even when they’re not dancing and, no offence, but I don’t see that between us right now. Do you think it’s natural, or could we maybe work towards it?”

“More importantly, will they know something is up if we ask them, or will it just come off as genuine curiosity?”

Aline hums thoughtfully, cocking her head to the side as she observes their significant others. Lorenzo and Helen are still talking, moving their hands around in a way that tells Andrew they’re discussing their choreography and what they need to improve or work on.

“Hey, Lorenzo!”

Aline’s voice rings loud and clear in the room, and Andrew’s boyfriend turns towards them instantly, his eyebrows raising questioningly at Aline. The brunette gestures for him to come closer and, after a quick eyeroll from both dancers, he complies, Helen trailing behind him dutifully.

“What is it, Blackthorn?”

“Oh, I don’t need anything,” Aline says innocently, her hands settling on Andrew’s shoulder as though she’s comforting him. “Andrew’s the one who has a question. See, he’s still a bit nervous when it comes to asking you things about dancing and whatnot, but I’m sure you’d be more than happy to answer any inquiries he might have, right?”

“Of course,” Lorenzo replies instantly, his gaze softening as he looks at Andrew. “You can ask me anything, Andy, I promise I won’t bite. If I had known you were nervous, I would have given you a crash course on salsa a long time ago. What do you want to know?”

Aline gives him an encouraging elbow nudge and Andrew narrows his eyes at her for a second before turning back towards his boyfriend and smiling tentatively. He really hates lying to people, but he supposes this is for the greater good. Somewhat.

“Helen and you, you seem…” He starts, trying to find the right words to describe whatever is going on between the dance partners. “You have this connection between you, in a way. Is that something you got from dancing together for a long time, or is just a natural spark? I mean, is it someone you could find with anyone, or is it only there with Helen?”

“Deep questions there, Underhill,” Helen snickers. “I’m not sure Lorenzo can handle that much reflexion in such a short period of time.”

“Oh shush, you,” Lorenzo huffs. “And to answer your question, Andrew, I suppose it’s a bit of both. Helen and I always liked each other, which is why we decided to dance together. But dancing made us even closer, which is how we obtained that ‘spark’ you speak of. Isabelle and Magnus have the same thing, although theirs might be even brighter than ours given how long they’ve been partners for. Even Simon and Maia have it, and they’ve only been dancing duets for a year or so.”

“Wow,” Aline beams when Andrew fails to say anything after a few seconds. “I can’t believe I never asked you guys about that.”

Andrew almost slaps his palm against his face at how _unsubtle_ Aline is sometimes. For someone who works with words, she can be very ineloquent when she tries too hard. Maybe Andrew wasn’t the only nervous one after all.

Not that it matters anymore, since they got what they were looking for. He glances at Aline briefly and nods, satisfied with what he noticed during the lesson. When he gets a nod in return, a small smile curls at the corner of his lips. Maybe they still have a shot at this.

After all, one month should be more than enough to get memorise a choreography and form a connection, right?

* * *

There’s only a left before the open dance night at the studio, and Andrew is beginning to think that they’ll never be ready by then.

It’s not that Aline and he haven’t made progress, because they very clearly have. They’ve got the steps down to a tee, even if Andrew’s legs still shake nervously every time he has to dip Aline and Aline still stumbles when she has to twirl around a few times too many. But honestly, they’ve come a long way from their first fumbling attempts at what could barely be called ‘dancing’.

Andrew has taken to practicing in his apartment, repeating the steps over and over again until they’re inked into his mind and come almost naturally to him. He hasn’t dedicated himself like this in what feels like years, and it’s strange to be so focused on a single thing. Just two minutes repeated dozens of times until he can sing the song in his sleep and dance with his eyes closed on the subway.

(Not that he’s tried that; he would have rather died than embarrass himself in public.)

However, they’re missing that spark Lorenzo and Helen share. They don’t have the same connection, and it shows in every single video that Andrew has filmed of them. Every time they look at the footage, all they see are two people who look awkward in each other’s arms.

Salsa is all about feeling, in a way. The choreography they selected online shows two people who smile at each other like they truly love their partner and are having the time of their lives dancing, but Andrew and Aline haven’t managed to achieve that yet. He knows Alec, Clary, Jace, and Lydia are all struggling with their own dance-related issues, but part of him feels like they have it easier, in a way.

At least they’ve all known each other for years and are comfortable enough to have at least the semblance of a dancing connection. Aline and Andrew are left to wade through this particular problem alone, looking over their dancing until they can barely recognise themselves and trying to spend as much time together as possible to ignite their own spark.

So far, it hasn’t worked.

“We’re still to stiff with each other,” Aline curses as they watch their latest attempt at the dance. “We look much better than we did at first, of course, but we’re still not as well matched as the other pairs are. That couple in the video just _flows_ like they’re part of the wind or something. No matter what we do, we still look like two people who are trying to force a connection that just isn’t there.”

“I mean, isn’t that exactly what we are?” Andrew points out, laying on the ground with a cold bottle of water balanced on his head. Weeks ago, he would have never let himself look so tired and defenceless in front of Aline, but they’re way past that now. “We’ve been forcing ourselves to spend time together, we’ve tried to talk about things that inspire passion in us to find similarities between us, and we even went to meet with the others for a bonding day or whatever. Maybe we can’t form a connection because there’s nothing between us.”

“I refuse to believe that,” Aline says firmly, fire burning in her eyes. “You listen to me, Andrew Underhill. We’ve known each for five months and have been working together for one. Of course we can’t have the same relationship as Lorenzo and Helen do, but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing between us. Do you hear me, or do you need me to repeat myself? There’s something here, Andrew, so much potential. We just need to get past the walls we still keep up around our hearts.”

Andrew wants to protest, wants to say he hasn’t been keeping anything from Aline, but they both know it would be a lie. They’ve been holding back, hoping that a superficial friendship would be enough to forge a bond between them and, in the process, they’ve probably been getting in the way of their own dance partner compatibility.

“Alright,” he sighs, throwing his bottle of water sideways and sitting up with a pained wince. Dancing hurts like hell, and he feels like there he hasn’t stopped suffering ever since they started training. “Alright, then what do you suggest? Should we tell each other our deepest, darkest secret and hope it’s enough?”

“I mean… Yeah?” Aline laughs sheepishly. “Look, I’m not saying it’s the smartest plan, and I’m not saying it’s going to work, but… I like you, Andrew. I like you a lot, actually, more than I thought I would when I first met you. You’re still a bit shy or serious sometimes, but you’re also surprisingly fun to hang out with. And I think you like me too, no matter how scared you were of me when we started this whole thing.”

“I never said I was scared of you,” Andrew pouts. Yes, he thought Aline was intimidating, but they didn’t exactly talk about it, which means either someone else told her, or…

“You could barely string two sentences together around me without blushing or going all quiet,” Aline points out. “So believe me, you didn’t have to say anything. However, that’s not the point. The point is that you don’t feel that way anymore, or at least I don’t think you do.”

“I don’t,” Andrew admits easily. “I like you a lot too. Obviously, there’ll never be anything romantic between us, but I think that only adds to whatever our friendship is turning into. You’re just… You’re not as intimidating as I originally thought you were, and you’re one of the kindest, funniest people I’ve ever met, so…”

“So let’s share secrets!” Aline claps her hands loudly. “I’ll even start, if it makes you feel more comfortable.”

Andrew nods slowly, because that _would_ actually make him more comfortable. Aline’s voice is incredibly soothing, and she has a way with words that he simply doesn’t. Sometimes he feels like listening to her talk is a gift for god himself, because no one can speak like Aline. No one can tell stories as enchanting as hers, and no one can lull him to sleep after a long rehearsal session like she can.

So if he has to share a secret of his, he would really rather hear one of hers first.

“I realised I was a lesbian when I was thirteen-years-old,” she starts, and Andrew can already see where this is going. The beginning doesn’t paint a pretty picture, and he can only hope the ending is better than what he’s anticipating. “I mean, Alec and I both knew we weren’t interested in the opposite genders. We tried for a while, but everyone knows changing yourself isn’t as simple as that. So, we hid it. Well, I hid it more than he did, I think. He wasn’t as ashamed of himself as I was; he was just afraid of his parents, not that it’s my story to tell. My parents, however… Well, I hid it as best as I could, but they still found out. I’m not sure how, but they did, and then they kicked me out.”

In Andrew’s mind, he hears slammed doors and words of hatred coming from the people who were supposed to love him forever. He hears screams and sobbing and then he feels tears stream down his own face; he doesn’t know whether what he’s feeling is just a part of his own memories or if he’s actually crying in front of Aline.

He’s not sure he cares. He’s already sweaty from the dancing, what are a few tears in the midst of all of that?

“I was lucky enough to have a cousin like Alec, and then to meet someone like Helen, but… Sometimes, I think about my family and I wonder if they’re alright. I wonder if my parents still think about me, still talk about me, if they still remember their daughter, or if they just moved on. So there you have it, my lovely little secret. Nice way to end the day, right? Now, your turn.”

Andrew snorts, a wet and mirthless sound that makes his chest contract. He hasn’t cried like this in quite a while, and it’s strange to feel this hollow at this point in time. He’s happy in his life, and he hasn’t let himself be upset in a very long time, but now he’s starting to wonder if he was just delaying the inevitable.

“I’d tell you my story,” he murmurs, ignoring the way Aline splutters, clearly thinking he’s backing out of their deal. He continues speaking before she can cut him off. “I would, but you already did. Your story, it’s… Well, pretty much the same as mine, except I didn’t have an Alec, and I only got my Helen very recently. The only thing I had was a part-time job, sometimes two, and a camera that I treasured more than anything. Coming here, finding you guys, it’s… It’s the first time I’ve felt whole and loved since my parents kicked me out and never contacted me again.”

When Aline looks at him this time, there’s nothing but sad understanding in her eyes, and the only thing Andrew can do is wipe her tears away the way no one ever did for him. He lets his thumb stroke her cheek, lets himself stare at her for a few moments longer, and then he stands.

He walks over to the stereo and hits play, the upbeat music filling his ears and sounding even more vibrant than usual against the storm of emotions in his mind. He’s always been fond of this song, has always appreciated the combination of two similar yet different voices, but it’s taken on a whole other meaning now that he’s _danced_ to it. Everything changes when you turn music into a composition of movements.

When he extends a hand out to Aline, she doesn’t hesitate. She’s in the arms just as their first steps are supposed to start, and she’s moving before he can even blink. And just like that, he understands why Helen and Lorenzo have never stopped dancing together.

There’s something there, something that feels a lot like understanding and a little like sadness, but it’s _there_ , floating between them and making Aline feel lighter in Andrew’s arms than she ever has before. His moves are still slightly stilted, and Aline’s spins are far from perfect, but they’re more synchronised than they’ve ever been, and Andrew doesn’t want to stop.

He doesn’t love dancing the way he loves photography, but there’s something liberating about moving around the room with someone he’s starting to care for in his arms. As he lets his arms move faster and faster, grabbing and letting go of Aline to the rhythm of the music, he thinks he understands why some people make a career out of this sport.

By the time the song is done, Andrew is dripping with sweat and tears, but he’s smiling brighter than he has in a very long time. Aline is pressed flush against him, sobbing and laughing and looking at him with such awe in her eyes that Andrew almost wants to look away.

Instead, he holds his partner even closer to him and knows that even if Lorenzo ends up hating the dance or breaking up with Andrew for sneaking around behind his back, it will have been worth it.

A month of dancing is nothing compared to the connection he feels sparking between Aline and himself.


	3. Jace & Lydia

It took Lydia a few days to realise that being paired with Jace for a dance meant being paired with _Jace Lightwood_ , a man notoriously known for only paying attention to things that mattered to him. She loves him – really, she does – but he can be a real pain sometimes, especially when it comes to making him focus on something he couldn’t care less about.

So when he contacts her less than a week after the six non-dancers decided to try and impress their much more graceful partners, Lydia is pleasantly surprised, even more so when he invites her out to a dance show to ‘get an idea of what we’ll have to work on’. He even payed for the entries and promised to buy her as many drinks as she wants.

Is she slightly suspicious of whether or not his intentions are pure? Yes, undeniably. But is she willing to give him the benefit of the doubt? Always. Jace may be an unreliable idiot at times, but he’s also one of her closest friends and someone she would trust with both hers and Maia’s lives. He means a lot to her, flaws included, and she truly hopes he won’t disappoint her.

Still, when he arrives at her apartment fifteen minutes early to pick her up for the show, Lydia is more than a little confused.

“Alright, spit it out.”

She’s in the passenger seat of his car, legs crossed lazily and hands tapping against the armrest rhythmically, as she always does when something is on her mind. At her words, Jace barely turns to look at her, too focused on the road to give her as much attention as she would like.

It’s so much easier to read someone when they’re staring at you head on.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he shrugs, heading towards Brooklyn at a startling speed.

“Oh come on, Jace,” Lydia rolls her eyes, nudging him as gently as possible. The last thing she wants is to accidentally cause a car crash. “Why are you taking this so seriously? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining, but it’s very unlike you. I was expecting to have to drag you to the studio and force you to dance, but instead you plan an evening out so we can study other people. What’s the catch?”

“There is no catch,” Jace answers flatly, his eyes still on the road. Lydia stares at him intently for a few moments longer but can’t find a hint of deception on his face. Either he’s gotten a lot better at lying, or he’s really telling the truth. Both options sound a bit far-fetched, but stranger things have happened than Jace changing and actually making an effort.

“Right then,” Lydia hums, closing her eyes and leaning back in her seat. “I’m going to assume you just really want to impress Simon, which is absolutely adorable. And just so you know, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Next to me, you’ll look like a beautiful swan spreading its wings.”

“And you’ll be what? The duck?” Jace huffs, and Lydia can easily imagine the disgusted look on his face at the mention of those ‘evil creatures’.

“That’s exactly what I’ll be,” Lydia answers. “Believe me when I say that dancing isn’t my thing at _all_. Maia’s tried taking me out a few times, but none of them have ended well for either of us, so we gave up eventually. Just going to this show is making me slightly nervous, if I’m being perfectly honest. Do you think they’re going to ask us to dance?”

“I certainly hope so,” Jace grins, and Lydia barely has the time to shoot him an alarmed look before he’s pulling into an almost-full parking lot and stepping out of the car confidently.

As soon as she leaves the vehicle, Lydia realises just what kind of ‘show’ they’re going to see. Suddenly, Jace’s enthusiasm for their little trip makes a lot more sense, because the two blonds are standing in front of Pandemonium, one of New York City’s biggest and most influential night clubs. The place is always packed, full of talented dancers, and a partier’s first choice if they want to have an amazing night.

Basically, the club is Lydia’s worst nightmare. She doesn’t mind crowds, and she’s even fine with loud noises, but clubs really aren’t her scene. Her classmates are always needling her and asking her to come out, but she’s just never understood what’s so great about a place filled to the brim with sweaty strangers.

Jace, on the other hand… This is exactly the kind of place he used to go to before Simon. Lydia can still remember picking the blond man up after a night spent partying – and can especially remember having to clean and disinfect her car many, many times because of it. Jace has always loved the feeling of bodies pressed up against him, and Lydia knows he feels even more at home at Pandemonium than he does in the studio.

To him, this is what dancing is. Lydia should have seen this coming, really, given who was planning their evening. And as much as she dislikes the place, she understands why Jace took her here, and she can’t even be mad at him for it. If there’s a population that knows what sensual dancing is, they’ll find it inside that club, grinding and rolling their hips and moving their bodies like it’s a weapon of flirtation.

She doesn’t like it, but she gets it.

“I can’t believe I’m about to do this for our stupid plan,” she mutters under her breath, pointedly ignoring Jace’s snickering. “I should have just said no when I still had the chance. But just so we’re clear, I’m not staying here for longer than two and a half hours. You know I get tired easily, especially when there are so many people around, and the last thing I want to do is pass out in a night club. _And_ you have to promise me that you’ll stay near me.”

“Of course I will,” Jace scoffs. “I’m not here to flirt, blondie, I have a perfectly nice boyfriend at home. The only reason we’re here is because I happen to know Tuesdays are their Latin-American nights, which means there’s a high chance we’ll find a few Bachata pros around.”

“But none as good as Maia and Simon,” Lydia sighs, not even surprised when Jace skips the queue and greets the bouncer with a smile. They’re let in in less than a minute, much to everyone else’s frustration, but Lydia doesn’t care. The sooner they get in, the sooner they can leave. “You know, I heard Aline and Andrew stayed at the studio and just watched Helen and Lorenzo dance for a while as a reference. We could have easily done the same thing.”

“Maybe,” Jace whisper-shouts into her ear, the music muffling his words and making it hard for Lydia to concentrate on anything other than the beat. “But there’s a big difference between the Salsa and the Bachata, Lydia, you know this. They’ll have to focus on technique a lot more than we will. Our dance is about sensation, passion, and heat. What better place to learn about those things than the hottest place in New York City?”

Lydia sighs at her friend’s antics but doesn’t say anything else, instead letting her eyes scan over the room in search of a good spot to settle down. They need to be able to see the dance floor, but she doesn’t want to be too far from the bar either. Warmth like this is going to make them thirsty even if they’re not the ones dancing, and she doesn’t want to have to cross the room every time she wants some water.

“Over there,” Jace points to the wall furthest from them, almost directly next to the bar. “You go brood and narrow your eyes over there whilst I go get us some drinks. A sex on the beach for you, I suppose?”

Lydia opens her mouth to tell him that she won’t be drinking, but then Jace pulls out his puppy eyes and she can’t resist him. He even remembers her favourite alcoholic beverage, for God’s sake. How is she supposed to say no to her friend when he clearly cares about her behind all those defences and masks he puts up?

Instead of thinking about her strange friendship with Jace for any longer, Lydia begins her quest of finding the perfect couple for their observations. They need a pair who’s talented enough to impress, but not so much that Lydia and Jace can’t follow along with their eyes, let alone their limbs. They need a man and a woman, preferably, since that’s the dynamic they’ll be dealing with themselves, and they need someone who looks like they’re having fun whilst also taking themselves seriously.

In the end, it only takes her ten minutes – the time for Jace to come back with their drinks – for her to find the perfect target. There’s a young couple, probably around their age, making their way onto the dance floor just as the music turns to something a little more Bachata-appropriate, a song that Lydia has heard hundreds of time at the studio. They look happy together, and Lydia can see the chemistry between them from dozens of feet away.

When she looks towards Jace, she notices his eyes are already fixed on that very couple. Clearly, she’s not the only one who’s been paying attention to her significant other’s lessons. A part of her wants to say something teasing, wants to ask him if he’s already been here with Simon, if he’s _danced_ here with Simon, but then the music picks up and she forgets all about Jace and his unusually great relationship.

The couple is just as good as Lydia thought they would be. They’re pressed closely together, as it should be, and their hips sway in unison as though they’ve been designed to move as one. They look at ease in each other’s arms, and it’s clear that this isn’t the only sensual dance they partake in together.

Bachata is a lot about the arms and the head and the upper-half of one’s body, so Lydia focuses on that first, deciding that she would pay attention to their legs later, when she wasn’t so fascinated by the languid way in which the woman’s head lolls around then snaps up. Sometimes, it looks like she’s not in control of her body, but then she does something that tells Lydia this woman knows _exactly_ what she’s doing, and she has to admit she’s more than a little impressed.

“It’s all about the body,” Jace murmurs into her ear. “Thankfully, we’re already friends, so there shouldn’t be too many intimacy issues, but you have a long way to go until you can move your body like they can. Hell, even I have a long way to go, and I’ve been coming to these clubs since I was old enough to not be thrown out.”

“You should go out there,” Lydia tells him softly, gesturing towards the dozens of couples mingling on the dance floor. “Go, have fun, show me how it’s done. Maybe seeing you move will give me an idea of how we’ll work together. Besides, I know you want to be there.”

“Are you sure?” Jace asks. His fingers are already twitching, his feet inching towards the dance floor as though he’s been drawn to it from the very start. Lydia nods once more, smiling encouragingly, and then her friend is off.

Jace isn’t a dancer, far from it, but he knows what he’s doing out there. He’s confident enough that his mistakes don’t bother anyone – not even himself – and he’s so used to being the centre of attention that everyone is effortlessly drawn towards him. He’s not even trying, and yet he’s the brightest person in the room. Lydia has never felt attracted to Jace, but she can see the appeal.

She can understand why there are girls – and even a few boys – flocking around him like they can’t get enough of his restless energy. She can understand why Simon likes him so much, even though they’re seemingly polar opposites. She can understand why he fits in so well with everyone in their group even though he should get on their nerves more than anything else.

He’s Jace, and he’s never pretended to be anyone else. Even out there, on the dance floor, he’s unapologetically himself. He dances like he knows exactly what he’s doing, but Lydia can see all his missteps and the way his shoulders tense when he’s not sure where to go next. But even so, he keeps on dancing.

He dances for three hours almost non-stop, only pausing to drink and ask Lydia if she’s getting the information and references they need. Lydia doesn’t even try to stop him, doesn’t try to pull him away when she hits her limit for the night. Instead, she pushes through and tries to understand what it might be like to go out there and lose herself in the throng of people, dancing like she’s not the sternest and stiffest person in their friend group.

She takes in as many couples as possible, memorising their every move as though she’s going to be tested on them the next day. She tries to tattoo their bodies and fluid dancing in her mind, hoping it’ll be enough. She even pays attention to Jace for quite a while, noticing more and more of Simon’s style in him as the night passes.

It makes sense, really, and Lydia can’t help but wonder if she’ll look as much like Maia as Jace does Simon. She hopes she will, but she doubts it. She’s not as careless as Jace, Simon, and Maia are with their bodies. She’s not as quick to express herself, and she doubts a few weeks will be enough to change things on that end. All she can do for now is hope that whatever Jace and she achieve will be enough to impress their significant others, even just a little bit.

Lydia _really_ wants to show Maia that she’s interested in what the brunette does. She wants her girlfriend to know she cares, even if she’s not the best at showing it. She wants Maia to understand that Lydia has looked and observed her for hours on end and remembers almost every second of her routines.

When they leave the club later that night, Jace more than a little drunk and Lydia pleasantly tipsy, one thing is clear inside the blonde’s mind: she won’t stop working until she’s half as good as the people in that club were.

* * *

The thing about Lydia is that she’s good at a few, distinctive things, but terrible at almost everything else. Her friends tell her that she’s too dramatic for her own good sometimes, but she honestly believes that her four-to-five talents are the only ones that she has.

One thing she’s always prided herself on is her hard work. Lydia never gives up, and she’s willing to put in ten hours of work every day if it means reaching her goal slightly faster than anticipate. For almost a month, she practices hers and Jace’s choreography every morning and every night until the movements are so engrained in her mind that it’s hard not to dance in the middle of the day, when she’s waiting for her next lecture to start.

She works day in and day out, trying to transform into the perfect dancer, and she knows her technique is getting better by the second. When Aline stopped by to check in on them, she told Lydia that the progress she’d made in such a short amount of time was nothing short of exceptional.

It warmed her heart, of course, but she knew they were far from done with their training. Jace took to dancing as he did everything else, which is to say frustratingly easily. On top of his already decent dance skills, he’s also very athletic, and his family’s golden child. He’s good at everything and, although it’s not necessarily a bad thing, it still hurts to see him do so well with some moves that Lydia can’t even think about doing without blushing furiously.

Because at the end of the day, that’s what it comes down to: sensuality. She knows the other duos are having a hard time with their dances as well, but she also knows none of them can help with her particular problem. The only thing holding Lydia back is her inability to be _sexy_ whilst dancing, especially with Jace.

She’s got the hand movements down to a tee, can spin around five times without getting dizzy, and knows exactly where her next step is at all times, but she’s lacking the most important thing when it comes to Bachata.

She doesn’t have the fire, the heat, the passion that she sees every time Maia dances with Simon. She’s spent even more time watching Maia in the studio over the last month, trying to figure out how her girlfriend does it, but all of her investigations have fallen flat. They do almost everything the same way – although Maia is a lot more graceful, fluid, flexible, and overall talented – but Maia is burning ambers where Lydia is cold, impenetrable stone.

Jace has tried to help her with this, has tried to take her out again and again, has dragged her onto dance floors in the hopes of making her loosen up, but nothing has worked. Every night after rehearsal, she comes home exhausted and defeated, wondering if she’ll ever get past this mental block she’s placed on herself.

Not even sex with Maia helps her understand what’s wrong. When they’re in bed, Lydia is as smooth and sensual as her girlfriend. She knows how to move her hips right, knows where her legs are supposed to go, _all of it_. She learned this dance a long time ago, and Jace swears that it’s really not that different, but Lydia doesn’t see it.

Maybe it’s because Jace is her friend whom she feels nothing romantic – let alone lustful – for, or maybe it’s because she can’t fathom sleeping with anyone other than Maia but thinking about sex does nothing to help her. Since that was Jace’s last piece of advice, they’re out of ideas.

There are only four days left until the open dance night and, whilst their choreography is as perfect as it can be, they both know that they’re missing something. Sadly for them, it’s starting to look like that _thing_ will never appear. What else are they supposed to do? How else is Lydia supposed to convince herself that being sensual in front of people isn’t a bad thing?

“It’s mental, you know,” she tells Jace as they’re leaving the building one night. “It has nothing to do with my body not wanting to move in a particular way, and everything to do with my mind and whatever block I accidentally placed there. Every time I so much as think about undulating against you sensuously, my brain stops working.”

“Oh, blondie,” Jace grins teasingly. “Is this your way of telling me that you’re in love with me? I mean, I’m flattered, I really am, but I’m also taken and very smitten with my fiancé, unfortunately for you.”

“Ha, ha,” Lydia rolls her eyes. “That’s not what I’m trying to say and you know it. It’s just… You know my parents, right? And you know how they feel about my girlfriend being a dancer, let alone someone like me. I’m supposed to be the smart one, the one that follows the rules and holds herself straight and never lets anyone see me as anything other than perfect. How am I supposed to dance in such a carnal manner if I’m still convinced I shouldn’t even show desire in the first place?”

Jace stays silent for a second, although he stops them in their tracks, which tells Lydia he’s just had some sort of grand idea. He looks at her sideways, obviously trying to figure out if what she’s saying is the truth or if she’s just trying to cover her lack of talent by spewing out random excuses.

She would have done the same thing in his place, and Lydia is struck with the thought that Jace and her aren’t that different, deep down.

“Our parents sure know how to mess us up,” Jace finally sighs, swinging his dance bag over his shoulder and turning back towards his and Lydia’s favourite practice room. It’s dark inside, their phones being the only lights at their disposition, and Lydia knows even _they_ would get in trouble if Magnus or Isabelle caught them sneaking around so late. “You know, for a long time I thought I couldn’t love anyone. The man that raised me, the one who calls himself my father, taught me that love is a weakness, and I believe him. It took Izzy and Alec years to get past my defences, and it took Simon even longer than that. I’m terrible at opening up because Valentine took all of my childish wonder and joy and turned it into fear and hatred. From what I can tell, this ridiculous block of yours isn’t that different.”

“So what am I supposed to do about it?” Lydia murmurs, pushing their studio’s door open and immediately going for the mirror. It’s her favourite place to be, facing away from it and towards the large window. It’s especially pretty now, with the moonlight streaming into the room and illuminating Jace from behind. “I don’t exactly have years to get past this; we have four days until the open night.”

“Right, but that’s not what this is about,” Jace says softly, taking a few steps until he’s standing right in front of her, his hands on her shoulders. “Of course, I want you to do your best when our time comes to shine, but this is about more than just a dance. However, I think dancing is exactly what you need to get past this.”

“Seriously?” Lydia throws her hands in the air exasperatedly. “Jace, I’ve been doing nothing other than dance for over three weeks, and nothing’s changed so far. Do you really think one more time of going through the choreography is going to transform me into a confident woman who doesn’t care what people think of her?”

“Of course not,” Jace chuckles. “But if this is really about how people perceive you, then I think I can help with that. See, part of the reason why you don’t want to act sensually in front of others is because _you_ believe it’s wrong. There’s a small part of you that internalised your parents’ words and has never been able to shake them off. If you want to dance with me the same way Simon dances with Maia, you need to let that go. And what better way to do that then to dance in the darkness with only one of your best friends around?”

“Jace, come on, this isn’t going to get us anywhere,” Lydia sighs, already pulling away from the blond man and heading towards the door.

Before she can leave, however, the first notes of a song she knows all too well start playing behind her. She has no idea how Jace knew that this music would hit her harder than almost any other, but she can’t force herself to leave the room anymore. Not when her childhood melody is playing so invitingly only a few steps away.

It’s a simple piano piece, one that doesn’t fit the style Jace and her have been practising for weeks now. And yet… And yet it makes Lydia want to dance, and she suddenly understands what Jace is trying to do.

It’s not about sensuality, not now. It’s about finding herself and reminding herself that she’s in control of what she does. If she decides to dance now, it won’t be for the open night. It won’t be for Jace, who’s leaning against the mirror but not pressuring her into anything. It won’t be for Maia or for her friends, and it certainly won’t be for her friends.

Every time she’s danced so far, it was for someone else, even when she was alone in her apartment. If she allows herself to be selfish this one time, to give into her _desires_ , then surely she can do it again with Jace, right?

It makes sense, and as scary as it is, Lydia knows what she has to do. She starts moving before she’s even made up her mind. Her movements are slow and lazy in a way that her Bachata dance isn’t, and yet it still reminds her of everything she’s learned so far.

Because just as the piano picks up and starts getting faster, Lydia moves her hips to the side and feels herself sway to the music. And that – that move – is one that she hasn’t been able to do with someone else around ever since she started practising. Yet, there Jace is, and there Lydia is, dancing as though she knows exactly what she’s doing.

She’s always been told that she’s not supposed to be like every other girl, she’s not supposed to like dancing and pretty things and having sex with other women. And all that, all those little things she forbid herself as a child, have been at the back of her mind all along, begging to be let out.

The piano gets louder and moonlight floods her face, and Lydia has never felt better about dancing than she does in that moment. Behind her, she feels Jace move and come to circle her waist, but she doesn’t let it bother her.

She can move alone now, she can fly and soar and get dizzy without falling. She can move her hips against Jace’s without them burning. Her movements are still uncomfortable and she knows she’s tenser than she should be, but they have four days to get better at the sensual side of things.

The piano stops abruptly and turns into a Spanish song that Lydia knows by heart after a month of playing it in her sleep. The rhythm is completely different to the classical piece that was playing mere moments ago, but Jace picks it up without stuttering and Lydia lets him lead her into their choreography, his hands gripping hers lightly before letting them go.

They twist and turn, and then they get even closer than before, so close that she can feel his pulse against her hand from where it’s placed on his neck. So close that his knee is in between her thighs, burning through her clothes in a way that would have made her flush if it were Maia, but only makes her burst out laughing when it’s Jace.

And when the music fades out, Lydia melts into her friend’s embrace and hugs him for a very long time, hoping that she’s translating her thoughts into touch, because she’s never been one for emotional speeches.

Clearly, Jace agrees. He rubs her back soothingly as she thanks him over and over again, and then he starts the music again, and Lydia loses herself.

She can be beautiful, she can be sensuous, she can be proud of who she has become.


	4. Alec & Clary

Alec and Clary fit together in a way that’s hard to explain.

When they first met, neither of them knew what to make of the other. They’re different in a lot of ways, and yet they’re also strangely similar when it comes to the things that matter. Maybe that’s why it took them months to figure out what they meant to each other.

They’re best friends now, and yet Alec is still amazed by how good they are together. It still takes him by surprise when he starts a thought and Clary finishes it for him. His lips still part delightedly when Clary remembers his order at his local coffee shop or when she stops back on one of his bad days and holds him comfortingly.

But the one thing that surprises him the most about Clary and himself is, by far, the way they dance together. They’ve never done it before, even though they’ve had plenty of opportunities in the past few years. Alec isn’t sure why they never got around to it, but he suddenly truly regrets it, because Clary and he are _perfect_ dance partners. They spin and glide across the room as though they’re two halves of a whole that have always been dying to be reunited.

They’re both equally as bad at each other at the more technical moves. They gave up on any kind of lift after one hour of practice when Alec almost got injured, and they both know their spins are a little off-beat most of the time, but that’s alright. It’s alright, because at least they’re off-beat together.

He couldn’t have picked a better partner even if he wanted to, and god knows he doesn’t. Clary and he are the perfect team, and he can’t wait for them to step on that stage and show everyone that even though they’re slightly clumsy and not the most graceful human beings out there, they’re still capable of rising to the challenge and dancing like they know exactly what they’re doing.

Magnus is going to be so proud. Or at least, Alec hopes he is, because even though this project has been very self-satisfying so far, he would still appreciate a few words of praise from his husband. Not that he’s needy or anything, thank you very much.

“I can’t believe the show is tomorrow,” Clary tells him the evening before the open night. They’re having a sleepover at Alec’s family home, since it’s the only place where neither Isabelle nor Magnus will come looking for them. “I mean, we’ve been working on this for a month, and tomorrow it’s all going to come to an end.”

“Or maybe it won’t,” Alec points out, turning onto his side so he’s facing the redhead. She does the same thing on her end and, less than a second later, they’re staring at each other from very, _very_ close. “We can still do this after the show is over, you know? I’m sure Magnus and Isabelle would love to teach us more about their lovely tango and tell us all about the things we did wrong. God, they’re going to mock us forever if we screw up their favourite dance. Or Magnus will ask for a divorce. I see no other option at this point.”

“Oh please,” Clary huffs, booping Alec’s nose gently. He scrunches his face up, hating the fact that he enjoys his best friend’s ministrations so much. “They’re going to love it, and they’re going to love us even more for this. They think we gave up on the dancing thing as soon as we heard about it, but now they’re going to realise that we care about them enough to suffer through an entire month of practice. Besides, we’re not that bad.”

“Aren’t we?” Alec chuckles. “Because I’m pretty sure that, outside of our perfect coordination, we’re quite mediocre.”

“But at least we have our perfect coordination,” Clary points out. Alec doesn’t have the heart to contradict her, not when she’s clearly trying to focus on the positive and forget all about the bad aspects of their choreography.

Alec admires her for it, since there’s truly a lot more bad than there is good, but Clary has always been unrealistically optimistic, so it’s not exactly surprising.

“You know, maybe you’re right,” Alec sighs. “Maybe that’s enough. Hell, maybe we’re better than we think we are. We’re not professionals, but we’ve been putting a lot of work in this past month, so who knows how good we might be? And well, we’ve had a lot of fun, right?”

Clary nods enthusiastically, and Alec lets himself think of the last month of his life. It’s been one of the best ones yet, second only to his wedding and honeymoon month. Magnus has been as wonderful a husband as ever, showering Alec in love and accepting his little gifts in return. They’re happy and talking about starting a family of their own, and Alec couldn’t ask for anything more.

On top of that, he got to spend as much time with Clary as he wanted to. He got to see his best friend every single day, got to hold her in his arms and twirl her around and make her feel like the princess that she is. He got to hear her stories about Isabelle and tell some in return. He got to dance with her without caring about anything else, and he has to admit it’s been a lot nicer than he thought it would be.

He’s come so far from where he was a few weeks ago, dance-wise. He’s learned how to warm up properly if he doesn’t want to be sore the next day, and he’s learned that cooling down after rehearsal is a necessity for the very same reason. He now knows that hydrating is no joke, courtesy of one Clary Fray who passed out in the middle of one of their sessions, and he knows that the floors get covered in sweat faster than one might think, especially when you’re trying – and mostly failing – to tango.

He’s memorised countless steps and sequences, practised until every single one of his limbs hurt, and gotten a little glimpse into his husband and sister’s lives. He hasn’t had such a fulfilling month in quite a long time, and he couldn’t be happier. Which is why he understands Clary’s reluctance for the open night to come and end.

Once it’s done, they won’t really have a reason to dance anymore. Sure, they could keep doing it for fun, but what if it doesn’t work out and they realise that, without a goal, their dancing isn’t as good as they thought it was. Or worse, what if they don’t like it as much once the open night closes down?

“We should go out,” Alec whispers before he can think about his words too much.

“Right now?” Clary gapes, looking at him like he’s insane. “Alec, we’re going to be performing in front of Magnus and Isabelle tomorrow, we can’t get wasted and pass out at three in the morning! I thought you were past your college days!”

“I am, trust me,” Alec snorts. “And I wasn’t talking about going out to a club. I just need some fresh air, and my mom’s garden is quite nice at night…”

“You’re so weird,” Clary mutters, but she’s already flinging her legs over the side of the bed and putting her slippers on quickly and efficiently. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re quite alright in the head. Are you nervous about tomorrow, or are you just truly insane?”

It’s a good question, actually. Alec doesn’t think he’s the kind of person to get anxious about little things, but he’s also not sure this is a ‘little’ thing. His first time dancing in front of an audience is a pretty big deal actually, now that he thinks about it. He wouldn’t even consider doing it if he didn’t have Clary by his side and, even with her, he can feel his heart beating rapidly at the thought of stepping onto that stage and dancing before an audience.

“Yeah, I might be a bit nervous,” he admits softly, opening his bedroom window quietly and folding himself in half to slip out of his room. He didn’t think it was possible, but Clary’s eyes widen even more and she shakes her head at him disbelievingly. “What? It’s not like I can leave through the door; my mom would hear us.”

“Alec, you’re an adult with a life of your own; you don’t need to sneak around in fear of being caught by another adult,” Clary says slowly, although she climbs through the window after him without complaining about it too much. “I swear, I have no idea why you’re my best friend. I should have stuck with Simon; at least he’s consistent in his foolishness. You just keep surprising me with idiotic actions I would never have seen coming.”

“Well, you know me,” Alec grins. “Completely unpredictable. Really, I’m the most impulsive guy you’ll ever meet and we both know it. My surprises are what drew you to me in the first place. Well that and the fact that you really wanted to date my sister and didn’t want to get on my bad side.”

“Psh,” Clary bats her hand in his direction. “Isabelle has nothing to do with our friendship, you know that. Maybe – and I mean _maybe_ – I started talking to you as a way to get closer to her, but that’s all in the past. We’re best friends now, basically siblings, even dance partners! I don’t think we could get any closer if we tried, except if we got married, but we both know that’s not going to happen.”

“Don’t fancy me like that, Red?” Alec teases her, elbowing her gently and almost tripping her into a bush in the process. “Oops, my bad.”

“Oh no, Lightwood-Bane, don’t you dare act all innocent,” Clary wags her finger at him. “You have two seconds to get away from me before you get exactly what you deserve.”

And really, most men like Alec wouldn’t be afraid of a tiny woman like Clary Fray, but Alec isn’t a fool. If there’s one person he never wants to anger in this world, it’s the redhead next to him, so he doesn’t even hesitate for a second before he’s speeding away from his best friend and straight into his family home’s backyard.

Clary is right behind him, staring at him approvingly and sending him one last warning glance before gazing at the space around them. A mischievous glint enters her eyes, and Alec knows he isn’t going to like whatever words come out of her mouth next.

“We should dance!”

Case and point. Yes, the two of them have been dancing together almost non-stop since The Plan was formed, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to start waltzing around in his garden, where any of his neighbours could see him. He’s already going to have to perform in front of an audience once; he’ll be damned if he has to do it twice.

“Oh my god, you coward!” Clary exclaims gleefully. “You’re afraid of people seeing you, aren’t you? I wonder what people would think if I told them that Alexander Lightwood, resting bitch face extraordinaire, has a bad case of stage fright. Seriously, Alec, we’re in the dark! No one can see us, I promise. Besides, if you can’t do this, how on earth are you going to go out there and dance tomorrow?”

Even in the darkness, Alec can see his best friend’s pleading gaze as it settles on him. He’s always been weak to Izzy and Clary’s puppy eyes, and this time is no different. Clary squeals happily when he takes his phone out of his pocket and starts playing their chosen song before throwing the device onto the grass and holding a hand out for Clary to take.

“You’re too easy to fool, Lightwood-Bane.”

“Only when it comes to the people I love, Red, you know this. Now shut up and dance; some of us are trying to get one last rehearsal in before the big day.”

Clary listens immediately, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath before raising one of her hands in a silent command for Alec to start moving. It’s not technically a part of their choreography but it doesn’t look out of place, so they kept it in even after they learned the timing and their steps perfectly.

They only dance once, both too tired and on edge about the next day’s event to do much more, but it’s one hell of a run-through. It’s pitch-black outside, and the only thing Alec can make out in the darkness is Clary’s hair, but it doesn’t matter. They’re so used to weaving around each other at this point that they don’t falter a single time. Strangely enough, the lack of light actually helps Alec focus on the rhythm, and he doesn’t think they’ve ever been so on-beat before.

By the time the song winds down, he’s aching wonderfully, sweating slightly, and more than ready to go back to bed, but he also feels a lot better about what they have to do tomorrow. If he can dance with his partner in the darkness and feel as good as he does right now, there’s no reason he can’t do the same thing in front of an audience.

He’s terrified, but it’s the kind of fear that people seem to crave and, for once, he thinks he understands the appeal.

“We’re ready, aren’t we?” He asks in the silence that follows their dance. Clary and he are panting lightly, but there are matching grins on their faces.

“Yes we are.”

* * *

The next day is a blur in Alec’s mind. He gets a call from Magnus early in the morning, asking him if he’s still coming to the open dance night, and Alec barely has the time to say ‘yes’ before his husband is hanging up on him.

He’s hurt for all of a second before he realises that Magnus is probably busy with preparations and, soon enough, he’s too busy himself to worry about what his husband is up to. He and Clary have to go meet up with the rest of their non-dancer friends and make sure that everyone is still feeling up to it.

When they get to their favourite café, their friends are already there, chatting happily, a hint of anxiety in their eyes. Alec is glad to see that Clary aren’t the only ones worried about their performance. This is a first for all of them, and they’re all putting themselves out there with this coup de maître.

It started out as a way to impress their significant others, but Alec knows it turned into something else for all of them. It turned into something that matters to them, something they’re proud of and don’t want to mess up. Yes, their first intentions weren’t necessarily the purest, but they’ve all been putting time and work and sweat into this project, and Alec will be damned if he lets any of his friends think that that their partners’ approval is all that matters.

“We did good,” he announces as soon as his coffee is placed in front of him. As one, all of his friends turn to look at him, but only Clary is smiling knowingly. “I’m serious guys, look at how far we’ve come. A month ago, none of us had walked into the studio for anything other than our boyfriends and girlfriends and husbands. A month ago, I had never even danced. And now here we are, about to perform on a stage. We’ve worked for this, all of us, and I hope you know I’m proud of you guys. I didn’t think we could do it, but I clearly underestimated us.”

“As usual,” Aline teases him, but there are happy tears in her eyes, and Alec knows she appreciates his words more than she can express. He can relate; they’ve never been the best with speeches and ‘thank yous’.

“We’re going to kill it out there,” Andrew says determinedly. Alec is glad to see that he looks a lot more confident than he did at the beginning of the month. His arm is wrapped around Aline’s shoulders as though they’ve always been the best of friends, and Alec’s heart warms at the sight. “I’m serious. Maybe we’re not the best dancers; hell, I still trip over Aline’s feet every three dances, but we’ve got passion and determination and all of that, and that’s more than enough.”

“Speak for yourself,” Jace smirks. “I’ll have you know that I’m a great dancer, even with a partner as disastrous as Lydia. You think _you_ had it bad, Aline? Try dancing with this one. Two left feet, I swear.”

“Now that is the biggest lie I have ever heard!” Lydia exclaims indignantly, shoving Jace off her shoulder when he tries to rest his head in the crook of her neck. “Get off me, blondie, I don’t want your disgusting lies spreading onto me!”

“Isn’t it sweet how this brought us all closer to each other?” Clary simpers, batting her eyelashes at Jace and Lydia. Immediately, the two blonds stop bickering and pout at Clary instead. The rest of the group – Alec included – snickers softly. “Really, I feel even closer to Alec now than I did a month ago, and I didn’t think that was possible.”

“What did you do?” Aline asks, her voice hushed. “Wait, did you finally sleep together? Because I’m pretty sure you’ve already done everything else at this point. I’ve always been curious about what straight sex feels like from a gay person’s point of view. If you have the time, I would love to hear about-”

Alec throws his pastry at her before she can finish her sentence. The table descends into silence for a few seconds before chaos hits them. Someone throws their coffee at Clary, who retaliates by hitting them with her bag. Food is thrown, drinks are spilled, and the entire group is, unsurprisingly, thrown out of the café.

They stumble outside, giggling and leaning against each other heavily, food and drinks splattered all over their clothes and faces. Alec is extremely glad he didn’t put on his evening outfit yet, or else his dance costume would be completely ruined. It would have still been worth the fun but finding a new outfit last minute wasn’t exactly his idea of a good time.

Their breakfast paves the way to an amazing day. Clary and Alec spend it together, going over their choreography and trying to fix the mistakes that have been bothering them all along. They don’t make much progress, but Alec is confident that their dance will be as good as it can be. He knows their friends are doing the same thing in their corner, having probably found a spot of grass in the mostly deserted park they settled in after being kicked out of the coffee shop.

By the time evening rolls around, Alec feels confident about his performance. He’s still nervous about being on stage, but his friends are by his side every step of the way as they head for the studio, and he can’t even remember what he was worried about when they enter the now very familiar building.

They all head their separate ways, not wanting their significant others to get suspicious before the time came for their big reveal. It’s easy enough to find Isabelle and Magnus in the crowd, since they’re always at the centre of it all, so Alec and Clary head there without further delay.

Even though Alec lives with Magnus, he feels like he hasn’t been able to see his husband as much over the last month, what with his increased workload thanks to dance rehearsals and Magnus’ time spent planning this very event. He’s missed him more than he can say, and he makes sure to let his lips linger against Magnus’ when they greet each other with a kiss.

“Well, someone’s in a good mood,” Magnus smiles once they pull away. His husband looks beautiful in his dance outfit, all blues and golds – Alec’s favourite colours. Izzy looks just as radiant in red and gold, and Alec already knows they’re going to dazzle everyone out there.

“I just can’t wait to see you dance,” Alec grins. “I know I get to see you practice all the time, but it’s different when you’re on stage. You’re going to be incredible, and I’m going to get to tell everyone that you’re my husband. Everyone out there will have to deal with the fact that the most talented man in the room belongs to _me_ , and that the most talented woman is my sister. If that’s not a good reason to be unusually happy, then I don’t know what is.”

“Fair enough,” Magnus chuckles before turning towards Clary. Whatever he sees on her face, it’s bad enough to make him frown heavily. “Biscuit, are you alright? You look a little bit sick.”

Alec spins in his best friend’s direction and curses under his breath when he notices how pale Clary looks. She assured him she was fine, ‘not nervous at all, I promise’, but she’s clearly a better liar than he gives her credit for. He should have known one of them would freak out right before the show. He just assumed it would be him, not his fierce partner who’s never been anxious about anything in her life.

“It must have been something she had to eat,” Alec says, grimacing internally at his terrible lie but knowing he couldn’t have done better under such short notice. “I think I’m going to get her to the bathroom. I promise we’ll be back out for your performance, alright? She probably just needs to get it out of her system.”

He hurries his best friend away before Magnus or Isabelle can ask anything else, and he squeezes her hand reassuringly as he pushes her into an empty practice room. She really _does_ look sick, and Alec wonders how he didn’t notice before.

“Red, hey, look at me,” he says softly, cupping his best friend’s cheeks as gently as possible. The last thing he wants is for her to throw up on him in the midst of her panic. This time, he _is_ wearing his costume underneath his jacket, and he doesn’t want to risk his carefully selected outfit. “You’re okay, Clary. We’ve been preparing for this for a month, and we’re going to be amazing out there. Look, I know I’m biased, but I think you’re an incredible dancer. You and I started from nothing, and now we can tango like we mean it. Will we be the best out there? No. But it’s not about being the best, Clary. It’s not about impressing anyone. It’s not even about this stupid plan of ours. It’s about you and me, going out there to have the time of our lives. We’re dancers, Red, and you’d better believe it soon, because we’ll be on stage in less than an hour.”

“But what if I fall?”

And that’s the question, isn’t it? The one that’s been circling inside Alec’s mind this entire week, the one that’s been bothering him every time someone mentioned the open night event.

What if they fall? What if they go out there and realise all the hard work they put in simply wasn’t enough? What if they make fools of themselves in front of everyone they care about?

Clary isn’t the only one who’s been worrying about that. In fact, Alec is willing to bet that every single one of their friends is telling themselves the same thing as they speak.

“So what if we do?” He asks a lot more confidently than he feels. A part of him wants to share his insecurities too, but he knows now isn’t the time. One of them needs to be strong, so he’ll be Clary’s support system until she can be his in return. “At least we’ll have tried, which is more than most people can say. Besides, why would we fail? We’re Alec Lightwood-Bane and Clary Fray, for God’s sake; succeeding is what we do best. I refuse to believe that Jace and Lydia can go out there and kill it but we can’t do the same.”

Clary snorts weakly, and Alec counts it as a victory. Besides, it’s not like he’s lying. Jace and Lydia are an improbably pair, and he knows no one is as nervous about this event as Lydia, so if the two blonds can go on stage and dance like they were born to do it, then so can Alec and Clary.

They’ve come too far to give up now, and Alec will carry his best friend on his shoulders if that’s what he has to do to get here onto that stage. For now, though, they have significant others to support. The room’s speakers announce that the senior staff is about to go on stage to perform the opening number, and Clary all but drags Alec out of the room, obviously eager to see her girlfriend dance again.

Besides, nothing soothes his frayed nerves better than watching the ones he loves do the things they adore, and Magnus and Izzy _definitely_ adored dancing.

They make it into the main room just in time, taking seats in the back so it’s easier for them to sneak out and come back in from behind when it’s their turn to dance. He notices their other friends nearby, holding hands anxiously as they stare at the stage. Lydia is tapping her knee repeatedly, Andrew is staring into the distance listlessly, and Aline and Jace are whispering to each other frantically.

As soon as the stage lights up, however, all their nervous tics disappear. It’s beautiful to watch, actually, the way his friends relax as soon as their eyes land on the person they love most. He wonders if the same thing happens to him when he turns around to stare at Magnus.

The entire senior staff is dressed in gold and a solid colour of their choice. Magnus’ blue and Izzy’s red compliment Maia’s purple, Simon’s black, Lorenzo’s green, and even Helen’s pink. They should look like a strange explosion of colours, but Alec thinks they couldn’t look more perfect if they tried.

And then they start moving and he’s immediately proved wrong because this, _this_ is perfection.

They fly across the stage like six angels, weaving around each other effortlessly and letting the music guide their steps. And for the first time in his life, Alec can actually follow along. He feels tears well up in his eyes as he realises that their stupid plan worked. Their ridiculous, foolish idea actually _worked_ , because Alec appreciates Magnus’ dancing even more now that he knows how hard it is.

He finds Isabelle even more beautiful now that he can tell her different positions from one another, and he can admire Helen and Lorenzo’s flawless technique from a new angle now that he _understands_ that technique. He’s even in awe of Simon and Maia, who both move in a way that Alec and Clary can only dream about.

They started dancing because they wanted to be closer to their partners and prove that they cared about their passion. They started dancing because they wanted to prove something to themselves and the ones they loved.

And as the dance in front of them comes to an end, Alec knows they’ve achieved exactly that. Their plan was a success, and all he had to do was listen to the music that was there all along.


	5. The Show

Magnus can’t find Alexander.

He’s been looking for his husband ever since he stepped off the stage, but the man he loves is nowhere to be found, and neither are the rest of his friends. He can tell Isabelle is just as unsettled as he is, and Lorenzo probably started panicking as soon as he realised Andrew was nowhere to be found.

Unfortunately, they’re out of time to look for them and will just have to hope that they show up eventually. The lights turn off again, a silent signal that indicates the start of the ‘open’ part of the night. A few students have performed already, and more of them will do so later but for now, Magnus is going to have to sit through a few painful performances.

And Alexander isn’t even there to hold his hand as he waits for the good stuff. He hopes his husband has a damn good excuse to explain his absence, because Magnus isn’t about to accept anything flimsy. Alexander knows how much this evening means to Magnus; he and his colleagues have been planning it all month to make sure it’s as good as it can be, and now his husband isn’t even there to congratulate him on his performance.

Before he can get too annoyed, the lights turn back on and the first dancers step onto the scene. At first, Magnus thinks it’s just a pair of people he’s never met before, a couple who wants to show off in front of his staff. There’ll be a lot of those tonight, he knows.

But then he recognises Aline and Andrew, and his heart stutters in his chest. These are his friends’ partners- no, these are his _friends_ , friends whom he knows don’t dance at all. He has no idea what they’re doing on that stage, but it’s either going to be phenomenally disastrous or surprisingly good. He hopes for the second. Maybe Aline has a secret talent she never told anyone about and decided to help Andrew in his quest to make Lorenzo swoon.

Maybe.

But then the music starts, and the couple starts moving, and Magnus is blown away. Because he’s sure, absolutely 100% certain, that Andrew has never danced inside his studio before. And yet there he is, twirling Aline around with a confidence the man has never demonstrated and moves that must have taken hours and hours of practice to perfect.

Their performance is flawed, but Magnus is entranced. A quick glance in Lorenzo and Aline’s direction tells him he’s not the only one in such a state. Clearly, this is as surprising to them as it is to him. Aline and Andrew are still dancing, sweat dripping down their backs but huge smiles on their faces.

There’s a spark between them, one that Magnus knows only comes from true friendship and nights spent talking in hushed voice. In hindsight, he can’t believe he didn’t see this coming. The duo works together, and Magnus swears he can hear Aline laugh once when they twirl closer to him.

The music is loud and cheerful, and Magnus can feel a smile twitching at his parted lips of its own accord. Aline and Andrew are a whirlwind of imperfect movement, and Magnus wants to see more of them. He wants to teach them about the wonders of dancing, wants to see what they could accomplish with a couple months of proper training.

But in the meantime, he claps as loudly as he can to show them how proud he is of them. He may not have been the one to help them practice, but he can see Lorenzo’s fluidity and Helen’s grace reflected in their style, and he immediately knows that Andrew’s videos haven’t just been stored away inside a computer. Aline and Andrew probably slaved over those photos and short films until they were sure their technique was as good as it would get.

Magnus is so caught up in his thoughts that he almost misses the next dancers’ entrance. But then two flashes of gold hit him full force, and he falls back into his chair, dazed.

If Aline and Andrew were a surprise, Jace and Lydia are on a whole other level. Neither of them is a dancer and, this time, Magnus is sure of himself. Lydia isn’t comfortable enough in her own body to truly let go, and Jace is _too_ comfortable in his body to control his movements as a dancer should, especially in their field. 

But, once again, the duo blows him away. The dance they chose is sensual and fast, exactly the type of song that Simon and Maia would go for, and Magnus loses his breath when Lydia starts moving against Jace.

Because as impressive as the blond man’s control over his body is, nothing amazes him more than the way Lydia, _Lydia Branwell_ , gyrates her hips and rolls her body against Jace as though she’s been doing it all her life. She doesn’t even look uncomfortable as she dances. In fact, she looks like she’s having the time of her life. She’s smiling at Jace easily, the two of them sharing meaningful stares that Magnus can’t even begin to decipher.

The dance the Bachata just as it’s meant to be danced, sensually and intimately. Their technique is just as flawed as Aline and Andrew’s, but Magnus can see how careful Lydia is with her hands and knows she worked her ass off to make sure she got as close to perfection as possible.

By the time the dance comes to an end, the entire audience is struck speechless by the story the couple on the stage is communicating. Where Aline and Andrew were elegant, Lydia and Jace are passionate. They bow as one, still holding hands and beaming at each other like they just conquered the world.

And in their own way, they did.

Then they leave the stage, and Magnus takes a second to understand what’s about to happen. Aline and Andrew performed, Jace and Lydia performed, which means there’s a high chance that the next couple who’s about to step on stage is none other than-

Magnus freezes in his seat and his heart comes to a screeching halt. Alexander has always been the most beautiful man in Magnus’ life, or at least ever since they first met, but he’s never looked as good as he does in that moment.

He’s dressed in dark colours, as usual, but there’s a shimmer to his outfit that isn’t usually there. More than that, though, there’s a sparkle in his eyes that Magnus has never seen before. He looks stunning, and Magnus has no idea how to handle the thought – let alone the actual reality – of his husband standing on that stage wearing a costume, getting ready to dance.

Alexander places his hands around Clary’s waist, his skin almost as pale as the redhead’s white dress, and then the world stops for a second. All Magnus can see is Alexander, his beautiful husband, staring at him with a soft smile on his face. All he can see is the man he loves, one of the worst dancers in the world, standing on that stage for his husband and – if Magnus isn’t wrong – for himself.

The music starts, and the world unpauses.

Alec and Clary have the worst technique of the three couples. They’re not meant for dancing, something that Magnus could have told them months ago, and it shows in their movements. And yet… And yet they’re the most beautiful thing Magnus has ever seen.

Even when they’re off-beat, the fly and twirl and spin like it’s exactly where they’re supposed to be. Even when Alexander’s hands shake a little too much to catch Clary, the emotion is palpable in the air. Clary and Alexander dance like they mean it and, before Magnus can stop them, tears are streaming down his face.

The song is slower and sadder than most tango music Magnus prefers, but it’s perfect for his husband and Clary. The two of them hold onto each other with small smiles on their faces that should be out of place during such a serious and sensual dance, but that actually only serve to make Magnus cry even more. Next to him, he’s glad to see Isabelle is just as wrecked as he is.

Their partners dance around for what feels like hours. They stumble and chuckle under their breaths and barely avoid a fall at one point, but they’re gliding like they own the stage, and they’re so synchronised it baffles even Magnus. He doesn’t know where to look, doesn’t know what to do with himself.

All he knows is that when the music ends, he’s the first one standing and clapping and sending all his love to his Alexander. His graceless dancer who is smiling like he’s never been happier and who has tears of joy in his eyes. Tears that match the ones Magnus can feel on his lips and on his cheeks and all over his face.

Before he really registers what he’s doing, he’s calling for an unplanned pause and rushing to the back of the studio where he knows the trio of couples will be getting changed and celebrating their success. Or at least, Magnus hopes they count this as a success, because he certainly does.

He’s still a mess by the time he reaches his husband, sobbing and cursing and dragging Isabelle behind him to make sure his sister-in-law doesn’t lose herself in a crowd of taller people. Lorenzo, Helen, Simon, and Maia are right behind them, pushing past audience members and dancers alike in their hurry to find their loved ones.

Their six dancers are right there, laughing and smiling and hugging each other like they’ve caught the moon with their bare hands. Maybe they have, for all that Magnus knows. Because apparently, these six fools are better at keeping secrets than Magnus thought they were. Because apparently, they’re all willing to do _anything_ for the people they love.

“Alexander.”

The name slips past his lips before he can stop it, and he can’t even bring himself to regret it, not when his husband turns towards him with a dazzling smile and rushes to embrace him before Magnus can say anything else.

His Alexander smells like sandalwood and sweat and waffles, and Magnus buries himself in that scent, whispering sweet nothings into his husband’s ear as he waits for Alexander to say something, to explain why they did all of that, to enlighten him and make him feel a little more grounded.

“I did it, Magnus,” his husband grins, pecking Magnus’ lips over and over again until they’re both breathless and panting. “I danced in front of all those people! Did you see it, Magnus? Clary and I have been working all month, and we were so close to not stepping on that stage after a little breakdown earlier, but we did it! I’m not sure how exactly, but I don’t think we were horrible, right?”

“You were far from horrible,” Magnus murmurs against Alexander’s lips. “My darling, you were stunning. God, you have no idea how much I love you. You have no idea how much this means to me. When you guys told us you didn’t want to dance, we just assumed we’d have to let the show go on without you, but…”

“But we were never going to allow _that_ ,” Alexander smirks, cupping Magnus’ cheeks and wiping some of his tears away. “You know how we are, always needing to be the centres of attention. We just didn’t want to have to share the spotlight with you, that’s all. But we planned this all along, from the very start. I think Andrew is the one who came up with the idea, although I may have helped a little bit. You know what, let’s call it a group effort.”

“Or call it a miracle,” Magnus chuckles wetly. “Alexander, you _danced_! My husband with two left feet just went on that stage and proved that with plenty of hard work, anyone can achieve anything.”

“So I did good?”

Alexander sounds so small then, so uncertain, and Magnus realises that despite his air of confidence of happiness, all his husband needs right now is reassurance and validation.

“You did more than good, Alexander,” he whispers, carding his fingers through his husband’s hair soothingly. “God, you were beautiful out there. You shone so brightly, even though Clary and you aren’t the best dancers in the world, and I couldn’t be prouder of you if I tried. I have never loved you more than I do right now, darling, never doubt that.”

Alexander sighs in relief, and Magnus presses one last kiss to the crown of his head before turning towards the rest of their friends. He loops one arm around his husband’s waist as he smiles happily at their wonderful little family.

“I can’t believe you organised all of this behind our backs,” he laughs quietly, not wanting to interrupt the five other moments happening around them. “Did you teach yourselves how to dance, or am I going to have to find your teacher and murder them so they can’t steal you away from me?”

“No teachers to murder,” Alexander snorts. “The only people who helped us are you guys, actually. It’s one of the reasons we started dancing in the first place; we realised we knew more about dancing than most people simply because of the time we spend in the studio watching you guys show your skills off. So really, _you_ were my best and only teacher.”

“How romantic,” Magnus sighs happily. “But tell me, did this make you happy? Or are you only happy because I’m proud of you?”

“A bit of both, probably,” Alexander shrugs, nestling himself even closer to Magnus. “But mostly the first. This month has been… It’s been insane, Magnus, but I feel closer to you than I have in a very long time. Turns out that learning about your partner’s passion is a great way of bonding without having to spend time together. When I saw you dance today, it was… It was like nothing I’ve seen before, even though I’ve watched you perform hundreds of time in the past. And I feel closer to my friends, too. We all started this journey together, and we ended it together.”

“That sounds wonderful, my darling,” Magnus murmurs, kissing Alec’s temple lightly. “And thank you for doing this. It means more to me than I will ever be able to express.”

“I know,” Alec huffs softly. “And you know what this means, right?”

Magnus shakes his head gently, frowning at Alexander as his husband raises his head and smiles mischievously at him.

“It means you get to dance with me as often as you want to!” He exclaims, and Magnus’ entire body softens for this adorable, beautiful human being. “I’m not as good as you or Izzy, obviously, but I definitely have the basics down, for the most part, and I’ll be a better partner than at our wedding, I promise.”

“I would love to dance with you again, Alexander,” Magnus smiled lovingly. “But for now, what do you say we ditch this event and go celebrate with our friends, huh?”

His husband doesn’t even get to answer, because Clary is barrelling into Magnus and hugging him tightly, closely followed by Isabelle, and then Lydia, and soon enough they’re all just a giant pile of dancers, professionals or not, clinging onto each other and laughing and making bets on who’s going to pay for the drinks.

And as Magnus holds Alexander’s hand and walks out of the studio he built from the ground up, he sends a quick ‘thank you’ to whichever deity gave him this extraordinary life as well as incredible friends.

Magnus may be the best dancer out there, but he’ll never shine as brightly as these six rising stars did tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> Heya guys! Thank you so much for reading! And thank you to Em and Aria for helping me come up with this idea and letting me scream at them last night <3 I absolutely adored writing this fic, and I hope you guys enjoyed it even a fraction as much as I did. I know it was a lot more friendship-heavy than relationship-oriented, but I just loved writing these different duos as friends and adding little portions of dance-related content (and yes, I watched about a dozen dance videos to prepare for this, all for research purposes of course). 
> 
> Love, Junie. 
> 
> (find me on tumblr @hopesilverheart)


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